The Kelsey Letters
by April-Cullen
Summary: Kelsey is a goth with a secret nobody knew. When her and her English teacher are alike each in more ways than known, they begin a slow friendship. But does the secret ruin their friendship?


The Kelsey letters.

The classroom burst into life after the sharp ring of the bell sounded. Everyone sharply stood with their heavy bags. The mob formed like an elephants trying to get to the last pond in Africa during the dry season. Girls chatted and gossiped. Boys pushed past and some reached into their backpacks to grab a football. Some students remained, a girl with ink black hair and gothic clothes on. She sat in her seat, unmoved by her surroundings, chewing a piece of gum. I see some kids who look at her and sneer, and guilt rises in my heart. I'm not deaf to the gossip I hear 24/7, she's the new girl. The _freaky_new girl as they say.

"Kelsey, right?" I ask her, looking her straight in the eye. Her chin goes down about an inch, indincating a nod.

Memories of my own life assaults me. I thought I locked up memories of my teen years. I thought I was over all that.

My mom got divorced when I was a teenager, and decided to move to her dream home....California. _My_ worst nightmare. I wore black and long sleeves all the time and wore my hair down and over my face. The kids stared all the time. I didn't blame them. Sometimes when I passed a store window or a reflection of myself, I gasped. _"__Who_is _that__?" _I would think. After a while it scared the hell out of me. So, I changed my look, like wiping off a face painting I got at some fair, or taking off a mask after the play is over. I changed, got back on course, but I destroyed my high school memories completely. I didn't even go to _prom_, for Christ's sake!

The girl, Kelsey, sat in front of me, waiting to retake a test. Her classmates mistook this diamond for a piece of trash. I heard of a guy who had the original Constitution, but sold it at a yard sale for a measly four bucks. When, really, it cost _much_ more than that.

"You remind me of somebody." I say, after she takes the test. She gets up and her lacy gauze skirt flutters beside her. She looks like a fairy -gothic, I'll admit- but still every bit as enchanting and beautiful. Her eyes are a unexpected light airy blue, the color of the sky on a summer day. Her outfit contrasts her eyes and skin painfully. The garbed, thick black eyeliner eats up the special iris color. Her skin is pale and creamy, smooth and lean. It is eaten up by fishnet stockings that have a rip in the knee. She wears a thin punk band tee with a skull on it, a short pleated mini skirt with red lines that look like the arms of a cutter and chunky military boots that -honestly- make it look hard to even pick up her _foot__!_

Her eyebrow quirks up in interest, wondering who this preppy, happy teacher could know that is like her so much. Kelsey is standing in front of my desk, holding out the paper.

I take the paper and look back up. "Me." I point one recently painted pink fingers of mine to my heart. Her eyes look at me, looking like she's filing your comment into her brain for memory while examining it, looking for lies and hitches. Kelsey knows she is hearing all truth because I know my eyes cannot and would never lie(a curse and a gift), that my face is straight and sincere. My voice rings no falseness.

Kelsey grabs her bag and heads toward the door. I stand, captivated, waiting for something, anything. She turns back right before she gives the doorknob a twist. Kelsey taps her chin twice and the corner of her left lip raises, sparkles in her eyes.

:::::::*!*:::::::

Weeks come and go like visitors at a local Bed&Breakfast, I tell Kelsey stories of my high school years. Though I wish I would never have to remember it, I tell her because I want to give her hope. Hope that she'll live through this madhouse that we call High School. That she'll survive the blood-sucking girls who flip their hair and sneer at you. The boys who look at you weird, like your from Mars, even the one you made friends with for about a month and gave you his disliked vanilla pudding because you loved vanilla pudding somehow. But, that friendship was just crash and burn after he made the football team and became popular.

Kelsey never talks, just nods and smiles a sweet smile that makes you think of the day you went to the orchard and picked the sweet ripe strawberries. Though, every once in a while in class she taps her chin twice and smiles. A signal between us. Who knows what it means, but we don't really care. Sometimes things are too lovely for words. A definition contains it, like when you were a child and you trapped butterflies in empty jars.

Maybe, I just want a companion to talk to. Like, the Labrador I never had who listened to my rants when nobody else did or let me tell the memory as clearly as a new day's just awakening light. Who just listens. Maybe that's what me and Kelsey were unofficial friends. I helped her through the years that I hated- giving advice through my memories, telling her what some of the teachers were like(yes, some of them were _that_ old, and since I went to school here...) and telling Kelsey not to get the chicken they served on Wednesdays- and Kelsey helped me. She let me get it all out, let me spill my secrets to her and had her listen like I'd always wanted.

Since, I lost my mother to a tragic car crash and I never have seen my father since the time I was fourteen at the courthouse, deciding custody. I guess the memories and emotions just bottled up. Like a can of Sprite, it was going to overflow sometime...and maybe it did, even before I met Kelsey.

Anyway, we helped each other. I don't know how or why or, even when she would stop by! But, we just did.

:::::::*!*:::::::

It has been a week since last seeing Kelsey. I didn't see her after school or at lunches or even in class.

_Maybe__she__got__tired__of__me__?_

_Maybe__she__started__making__friends__?_

_Maybe__she__moved__?_

_Maybe__she__ran__off__to__Vegas__, __to__one__of__the__drive__-__through__chapels__with__Elvis__to__get__married__to__a__secret__lover__?_

Excuses and scenarios ran off in my head. Some were plausible and some were....seriously unlikely; the one with a secret lover and Vegas, for example. My heels clicked on the linoleum as I marched to the main office.

"Do you know why Kelsey Williams has not been able to come to class?" I asked the secretary, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Oh, wait a sec...." She pulled out a drawer full of manila envelopes and grabbed one. _Williams__, __Kelsey_ it stated at the top in bold letters. Mrs. Manger shuffled through it for a moment. "It says here, she's absent for medical reasons. Getting surgery, apparently."

My jaw falls open. "W-what?" I manage to stutter.

"Yes, that's what it says. She had damaged vocal cords and was unable to talk for years. She finally went into surgery for it. Poor child." She slid the glasses off her nose and propped them on top of her head. "Hopefully, she'll be back in a month. I heard vocal cord recuperation is very long and gradual. Is that all you came for, Ms. Warner? I could make some of your classwork copies if you want?" I waved off the offer and walked back in a semi-unconsciousness. How could Kelsey not tell me? But, why should she, it was her business. Fuck, if it was my secret, I wouldn't have told anyone, out of fear of being seen weird. "That might have been her reasoning, too." The thought slipped through the pavement cracks of my mind and seeped into my thinking. That's why she never talked, just gave signals that made it seem like she just _didn__'__t_ want to, but in reality she just _couldn__'__t__._

Was that it then? Could Kelsey have created a whole identity to hide something she didn't want to be known as public information. Looking goth and scary so she wouldn't be pressured to talk to others. The hair and clothes and the _whole__look_ was a lie, wasn't it? I started to doubt if I was even her friend, that maybe she thought of me as a nuisance, and since she couldn't talk she couldn't tell me that she didn't want to do the meetings and stuff. Or maybe that part was in fear of hurting my feelings when she knew that they were just recovering.

While Katherine Warner questioned her friendship with Kelsey Williams, Kelsey Williams herself was being wheeled through the swinging white door's of the hospital. She had a dark premonition that the surgery wasn't going to work, the same premonition that told her that her English teacher, Ms. Warner, was like Kelsey in many ways. That turned out true...and so did the other one. Two hours into the surgery Kelsey Williams died on the table without even telling her only true friend the truth of herself.


End file.
